


Like Real People Do

by runfive



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: F/F, Female Runner Five, Gen, not explicitly Janine/Five more like softly implied Janine/Five, spoilers through 5x22, zrs5 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-19 19:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20215042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runfive/pseuds/runfive
Summary: “Do you trust me Five?”Janine’s not sure what she’s more touched by. Five’s answer or the fact that she didn’t hesitate for a second before answering-“With my life.”(Snapshots of Janine De Luca and Runner Five through the years.)





	Like Real People Do

She’s sitting in the hospital, being checked for bites when Janine De Luca walks in, barely giving Five a second look before speaking brusquely to Dr. Myers.

“Is this the Mullins soldier? You directed her to pick up the CDC box, correct?”

Ah. So this was the source of her ordeal. The reason for her forced run through a zombie infested hospital on a leg injured in the helicopter crash. She knew it couldn’t have been Doctor Myers, who seemed too good natured to leave anyone stranded outside the township. But this Janine De Luca, all sharp and militant, wouldn’t have given her a second thought.

She knows the type.

“Yes, this is the runner,” Dr. Myers says, with a reassuring smile as if she knew exactly what had just crossed her mind. “Our new Runner Five, according to Sam.”

“Yes well, very good then. I’d like to get a report from you, Doctor, as quick as you can. We need to make sure that your version of events corroborates what Mullins is telling us.”

Five shifts uneasily on the hospital bed, where’s she’s sitting. Pain is shooting uncomfortably up her left arm and upper back, and she’s exhausted from having been run to the ground to get that box. And this woman-Janine-is just talking about her like she’s not even there. Still, though she hasn’t been a soldier long, she can recognize the chain of command when she sees it. And Janine de Luca moves with an authority and command that only comes with years of experience in the territory.

Five keeps her mouth shut and Janine turns to leave.

Dr. Myers shifts her attention back to Five, “Alright, can you rate the pain in your left arm for me on a scale of one to ten please?”

“I don’t know, uh a three maybe? Four?”

“Uh-huh,” Dr. Myers gives her a shrewd look, “So you’re one of those types then?”

Five looks at her, confused.

“The ‘downplay the immense amount of pain you’re in, in some type of stoic show’ type.” Dr. Myers gives her a smile, then looks over to the doorway, “I think the two of you might get along, Janine.”

Five didn’t see Janine still standing there. She’s looking at Five, a slightly confused expression on her face.  
“Oh. So you do talk.”

It’s so blunt that Five almost wants to laugh for a second. “The headset broke in the crash.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t talk that much anyway.”

“Noted.”

Janine doesn’t say anything else, just turns on her heel and leaves.

Dr. Myers is laughing, “Like I said, kindred spirits I think.”

*

Five doesn’t know what to make of Janine De Luca. She doesn’t flat out threaten her like Runner Eight does, but she’s not exactly well, welcoming either, and she looks more often at Five with distrust than anything.

“I seem to have that effect on people,” Five muses to Sam one morning over breakfast.

“Oh no that’s-no don’t worry about Janine, Five. If she doesn’t act like she doesn’t like you, something's not right, you know.” Sam grins at Five, who can’t say she feels at all reassured.

*

The new runner from Mullins is suspicious at best, potentially dangerous at worst, and Janine De Luca does not make the mistake of trusting her. Runner Eight was right, it’s all a bit too convenient for Janine’s liking. Though Sara at least seems to have grown to like the runner since she found her ID card in the helicopter a few weeks ago.

She finds herself going down to the underground labs more often in the middle of the night, checking that everything she has been entrusted to protect is still there, that the security system is still functional, that nothing’s out of place.

It’s a tiring procedure and Janine often wonders if the new Runner Five is more trouble than she’s worth.

Still, she keeps an eye on her. She might prove useful.

*

“You’re...not dead.”

Half of her wants to laugh, the other wants to make a witty comment about Janine’s observational powers, but Five’s too tired to do either so she just says, “You’re going to have to try harder if you want to get rid of me.”

It’s a joke but Janine grimaces anyway, and Five can’t help but wonder how much truth there was behind what she said.

It must show on her face because for the first time since she’s known her, Janine looks suddenly chagrined. “Runner Five,” Janine seems to struggle with herself for a moment, “Runner Five...We’ve woken up Dr. Myers. She and Mr. Yao are waiting for you in the hospital.”

“Right,” Five mumbles, moving past Janine towards the hospital and trying to convince herself that the acutely painful feeling in her chest is exhaustion and not disappointment.

“Runner Five,” Janine calls after her suddenly, and she stops in her tracks, turning back around, “Runner Five I am...glad you are not dead.”

It’s the nicest thing Janine has ever said to her.

*

Half of Abel goes down in ash. Runners Six and Eight are dead. A dozen other people are missing.

Janine can’t help feeling like she failed them all.

Suddenly she hears footsteps crunching over the debris. Runner Five steps in line next to her as she stands at the front of the township, surveying what remains.

“We’ll rebuild, Janine,” she says in a quiet voice.

It’s simple and keenly comforting, and Janine can’t help but fathom how she’s come to almost rely on the runner’s quiet and solid presence. She’s become a fixture at Abel over the past few months. Perhaps not just an asset, but a friend to many.

She’s not quite sure when it happened but she’s glad Runner Five is there as they sort through the ashes.

*

Janine sits at her kitchen table with her fingers pressed to her temples, her mind running several thought experiments at once. She’s narrowed it down to three possible traitors. It can’t be Simon, that at least is obvious. Runners Seven and Eight both have the means and the skill but not the motive.

She’s known Runner Five for the least amount of time of any of them. Of course she doesn’t want it to be Five. The peculiar runner who in her short time at Abel has already started to mean something to many people, Mr. Yao especially…

Runner Five who’s been loyal to Abel since she arrived, who put her life on the line again and again for the township and its people.

Runner Five whose helicopter was shot down. Runner Five who was sent from Mullins under suspicious circumstances, whose loyalty to Abel was almost too quick, too secure to be virtuous.

She looks between Seven, Five, and Eights’ photos.

It’s not Seven.  
It can’t be Eight.

She flips the file shut.

*

Her body still feels like it’s on fire as she half runs, half limps back in the direction of Abel.

“Five?” Sam’s frantic voice comes through her headset, “Oh God, Five.”

“I’m okay, Sam,” she murmurs. She’s not okay, she doesn’t think she’s ever been less okay, but there’s no time to be not okay right now. She forces down the urge to throw up and keeps running.

She can barely focus on what Janine is saying to Sam until she hears, “A simple blood test will show whether or not you’re infected. So do hurry back, Five.”

She thought the pain in her body had reached a peak, that she was incapable of feeling anything worse, but somehow Janine’s words still manage to sting.

She’s sitting in the hospital hours later, Maxine giving her an apologetic look before drawing blood from the still stinging veins in her arm. She takes a deep breath and looks down as Maxine sticks the needle into the crook of her arm. It’s infinitely gentler than Van Ark’s violent jabs but she can’t help the shudder that runs through her body. Maxine puts a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. She stares down at her legs, her clothes stained with Sara Smith’s blood and her own.

Janine opens the door of the room, an uncomfortable look on her face. “Runner Five.” She stops, shifting her hands nervously before continuing. “Runner Five, I know you know that this test is not only to see what Van Ark put in your system so we can deduce any lasting effects, but also to ensure that you don’t have the same treatment in your blood that Runner Eight did.

_To ensure I’m not a traitor too,_ Five thinks.

“But Five, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry that I doubted you.”

“You haven’t got the results yet,” Five laughs. It’s a hollow and broken and a sort of delirious-from-exhaustion laugh, but Janine recognizes Fives forgiveness for what it is.

*

It’s well into the night when Janine hears a knock on her door. She, of course, is still awake. It’s been a week since the dozens of Abel residents mysteriously walked out and there’s work to be done. There’s always work to be done when people as important as The Major die, regardless. When friends die.

She’s admittedly more shaken than she’s been letting on. She’s been left with no chain of command, no immediate higher authority to consult with. It’s just her in charge of Abel now, at least until the Ministry decides what to do with the township. She can’t help but feel somewhat...alone in it all.

And Simon...Simon she can’t think about right now.

The second knock on the door breaks Janine out of her thoughts and she stands up and pushes the paperwork away from her.

“Runner Five.” Janine says, surprised, as she pulls the door open.

Five is standing on the doorstep, her rucksack in her hands, looking more unsure than Janine’s ever seen her.

She doesn’t say anything for a minute and Janine briefly thinks about how accustomed she’s become to the runner’s small idiosyncrasies. The peculiar silence might seem strange to anyone who didn’t know her, but Janine just opens the door a little wider, beckoning Five into the room.

Five seems to be collecting herself for a few seconds, then suddenly reaches a hand into her bag, “I-I just realized I still had this.” She pulls something out and sets it on the table. It takes a minute for Janine to realize that it’s Sara’s gun.

She looks back up at Five who gestures almost helplessly towards it, “I don’t know if you wanted to put it back in the armoury or-”

“Oh..no Five keep it, it’s yours.”

Five looks up in confusion and Janine clarifies, “Sara left that to you. I’ve just been over her will.”

“Oh.”

Despite her stoic composure and almost military like posture, Five’s eyes look so lost that Janine wonders how she could have ever possibly thought she was the traitor. Then again, between Simon and anyone else, how was she possibly to think-how could she have ever believed that-

No. No, she can’t think about Simon right now.

Five is still standing there and Janine suspects the runner didn’t make her way over to the farmhouse just to return Sara’s gun.

“Was there something else you needed, Runner Five?”

She’s quiet again for a few seconds, pulling at a loose string on her jacket. Finally she looks up at Janine. “I was angry when I thought she had betrayed us. Sara.”

That wasn’t at all what Janine was expecting. She tries to think of something to say but Five continues before she can respond. “I thought...I thought that I had put people in danger by making the mistake of trusting her.”

Janine’s throat is suddenly tight and she turns back to the paperwork on the table, “Well she didn’t end up betraying us.”

“Yes,” Five nods, walking around the table to return to Janine’s eyeline, “but it wasn’t my fault for trusting her, was it?”

Janine stops fiddling with the papers and looks up at Five, a little confused. It’s more words than Five has spoken to her in the last nine months put together, and Janine hardly knows what to say in times like these. “Of course not.”

Five simply looks at her.

Oh. Yes of course. Runner Five was always one to give comfort, not to seek it out.

Janine was never one to let herself trust people to begin with. And Simon Lauchlan had just broken whatever remained of her ability to let people in. Five is still standing there, looking as unsure as when Janine opened the door, but seeming to register the impact her words have had. Janine’s eyes shift to the dark bruises on Five’s inner arm that haven’t quite faded over the past week.

She’s proven herself. She’s proven herself much more than she should have had to. Perhaps Janine isn’t so alone after all. People like Runner Five almost always find their way to the top, whether it’s a position they choose or not. It’s a hard, lonely path, however, and Janine knows that better than most. She thinks for a second about warning Runner Five about what she suspects is coming for her if she continues down it.

Instead she says, “She would be proud of you, I think. Sara.”

Five’s gone quiet again but gives Janine a tight nod and a small half smile.

*

Every step Five takes towards Abel is harder than the last. Janine standing in front of the guards, her gun pointed directly at Five, is a small comfort, but it doesn’t make the walk easier. She wishes Simon could have come with her all the way. She knows it’s selfish, but if he was with her at least she wouldn’t be the only monster.

As she approaches the gates Janine lowers the gun but Five can see a single finger remaining steadfastly on the trigger. Simon told her that Amelia called ahead to say the anti-mind control serum worked, but she’s not sure how much Janine trusts Amelia and Simon’s word at this point.

Despite everything, Five feels fractionally relieved. Janine De Luca might be the only person in Abel who would kill Five if she had to. Sara would have done it but she’s gone.

_She’s gone._ Five reminds herself, the echoes of Sara’s voice not quite faded from her brain.

She’s not sure what she must look like but Janine’s expression shifts and she’s quietly telling the guards to lower their weapons. Part of her wishes that Janine would just let them shoot her.

She just stands there, still shaking, from the serum, from the fear, she’s not sure. She can’t look Janine in the eye. Every part of her is itching to run as far as she can from Abel, far from where she ever can hurt anyone (far from where she can ever find out how many people she’s already hurt).

Janine moves forward, slowly, as if she’s afraid she might frighten Five if she moves too fast, until she’s standing right in front of her, and Five hardly dares to breathe in the space between them.

She clenches her fists, trying to stop them from shaking as Janine surveys her, her face calm, impassive. Janine seems to find what she was looking for, her expression turning grimly satisfied. “Come along, Runner Five,” she says quietly, holding out a hand towards Five.

Five looks past Janine to Abel, dread and terror rising inside her. Her feet feel suddenly frozen to the ground, as if Moonchild had ordered her not to move. A sudden wave of nausea hits her at that thought and she covers her mouth with her hand, not quite smothering the strangled noise that comes out.

Janine’s outstretched hand immediately moves to her shoulder.

Five forces herself to breathe, she’s not going to break down out here, in front of the guards. In front of Janine.

_Five you have to go back._

Damn Amelia for being right.

She’s made it this far.

The last two steps inside the gate seem impossible.

Janine seems to understand. She wraps her arm around Five’s trembling frame, guiding her back into Abel. Back home.

*

“Mr. Yao for the thousandth time-”

“But Janine, Five’s not _talking_ to me she’ll barely even look at me!”

“I understand that Mr. Yao,” she says, a slight edge to her voice. “But if Five is avoiding you then I suggest you give her her space. These past few weeks have been...extremely difficult for her.” A vast understatement.

“I know, Janine, God_ I know_,” he says in a miserable voice, fiddling with an empty marmite jar on his desk, and Janine can’t help but feel sorry for the boy. “But she has to know, it wasn’t her fault for hurting me right? It wasn’t her fault for any of it!”

“I know.” Janine says in a tight voice, taking the empty marmite jar from his hands and pointedly throwing it in the rubbish bin.

“But Five doesn’t, Janine, can you just-can you just tell her that I know it’s not her fault? Please Janine, she’ll listen to you.”

He’s staring up at her, eyes all puppy dog. Janine sighs.

As she’s been taken off active duty for a few weeks, Five has taken to following Janine around the township looking for ways to be useful.

Janine isn’t sure how to even broach the subject. She can barely tolerate handling her own interpersonal issues let alone other people’s. But if it’ll get Mr. Yao to stop _moping_ around her  
well then…

She turns to Five, who is sitting on the floor by the electronics shack, lifelessly untangling wires from each other. “Have you considered speaking to Mr. Yao?”

Five’s hands pause. She sits there for a few seconds, eyebrows creased. “Have I...what?”

“You’re avoiding Sam,” she repeats, her tone a shade gentler.

The dullness in Five’s eyes flash with panic for a second and she looks away, back down to the wires in her hands. She’s quiet for a minute. Finally she says in a small voice, “I hurt him.”

“So?”

Five looks horrified. “I...I almost killed him. You can still see where I hit him in the face with the ax handle!”

“Runner Five, I have hit many of my colleagues, many times with deadly force. We did not let it impede our ability to communicate and I suggest you do not either.”

Five just sits there, open mouthed, as Janine turns back to the radio she’s repairing.

Two days later Janine walks past the orchard to see Sam and Five sitting alone under one of the trees. It’s the first time she’s seen Five smiling in two weeks.

*

One of the many habits Five picked up from being trained by Sara was an unapologetic attitude toward her actions.

Janine has to admit, it’s a clever tactic to use in the field. When you’re surrounded by zoms having to make split second life or death decisions, second guessing your choices can get people killed. It works especially well for runners like Five and Sara, who have excellent instincts.

So it’s rare that Janine ever hears Five apologize.

But there are two times that stick out in her memory.

The first is after Simon turns up not dead making it clear that Five has been lying to all of them. Janine is furious, she doesn’t think she’s ever been so furious with anyone least of all Runner Five, who despite being extremely combative in the field, is one of the least confrontational people she knows.

“I’m sorry, Janine,” Five says in a quiet voice. Janine looks at her. She had vigorously (and loudly) defended herself to Sam when he yelled at her for lying to him not half an hour ago, but she hadn’t up until this point said a word under Janine’s reprimanding.

Janine puts her palms flat on the table, and scrutinizes Five through narrowed eyes. She’s staring at her own hands folded in front of her, not making eye contact.

Janine has to admit, she can’t help but feel a bit betrayed. By Simon, and now by Runner Five, whose loyalty was apparently more dubious than she had come to believe.

No, that’s not right. Five is loyal. Five is loyal to a fault. And maybe it hurts that that fault just happened to be Simon Lauchlan and not her.

“No you’re not.”

Five doesn’t argue back.

The second time is 8 months later. They’re sitting outside in the quiet, under the stars, the music and celebration from all of Abel celebrating Moonchild’s death dimly muffled in the distance. Again, she and Five, the lone mourners at the party.

It’s almost out of nowhere, “I’m sorry, Janine.”

Janine snaps out of her thoughts, pushing down the grief in her chest and looks at Five, brow furrowed. “Whatever for, Runner Five?”

Five doesn’t look at Janine when she answers, instead gazing up at the stars. “It-well. I’m sorry that he died instead of me.”

Janine looks at Five, stunned. She doesn’t even know how to begin to respond to that. Five seems to take her silence for confusion and looks helplessly at Janine as she continues, “I was going to do it. I was ready to die. I’m sorry I let him do it for me.”

“Runner Five. Stop.” It’s one out of the only two times Five has apologized to her. The first time she should have meant it but didn’t. The second time she meant it but shouldn’t have. Janine knows there’s nothing she can say, knows too well that nothing can ease the guilt of leaving behind a brother in arms (of leaving behind a brother) to die.

Instead she tries for something uncharacteristic. “You’re very terrible at apologizing, do you know that?”

Five turns to looks at her, dismayed.

“That was a joke, Five.”

“Oh. Well you’re very terrible at making jokes.”

“Then I suppose we’re even.”

*

Five watches Janine run around the township, an authority in her stride that only someone like Janine is capable of carrying. The entire left quadrant and part of the wall had been decimated by Van Ark’s rocket launcher but the rest of the township is still standing.

What had really been shaken to the core were its citizens, the last of whom were being transported to New Canton until they could rebuild. And despite the ache in her heart from the loss of Sara, looking at Janine as she directs orders from the half standing gates, Five is confident that they will rebuild. She’s familiar with the importance of a good leader. It was something Mullins was lacking. She can see it in the eyes of the group of people waiting at the gate for her and Simon to run them to New Canton. She’s sees their fear, their uncertainty. But something else reflected in their eyes too - the unwavering certainty that Janine De Luca would somehow fix everything. It’s what makes them tighten their fists, hold their shoulders a little higher as they make their way out of the only home they had ever known post apocalypse.

Sometimes Five thinks that Janine is maybe the only thing holding the township together.

She can’t remember how she got here, stumbling out of bed, through the dark, falling to her knees on one of Abel’s cobblestoned paths.

Maybe she didn’t really make it off that ship, maybe she drowned in it.

It’s too much for one person to handle, she knows that. Knows that despite her held together front, she’s been unraveling ever since Sara died. Since Van Ark used her body as his lab rat, since Moonchild hijacked her mind. The truth is she hasn’t felt like any part of her has been her own for a long time. That they didn’t leave anything behind after they took what they wanted from her. She’s lost in the tangled web of serums and ships and needles and bombs they made her into. It wraps around her until she’s choking on it.

She barely registers the door opening behind her, the softly spoken, “Five?”

But in the dark and the pain and the rushing in her ears, she feels Janine’s hand on her shoulder, solidly and dependably there.

Sometimes Five thinks that Janine is the only thing holding her together too.

*

“Janine promise me. Promise me you’ll stop me if it comes to it.”

“You needn’t worry, Runner Five. Doctor Myers has assured me that there is no likely risk of anything happening to you.”

Five slams her hand down on the table, “I don’t need assurances that I’m going to be okay, Janine. I need you to tell me that you’ll be there if I’m not.”

Janine sighs, “Five-”

“You’re the only one who can, Janine. Sam won’t be able to, anyone else would hesitate. You’re the _only one_ I trust to do it”

Janine purses her lips and looks at Five, who’s gripping the edge of the table, white knuckled. Her posture is all determination and fire, but Janine can read the genuine fear in her eyes. She’s seen first hand how much Five lost to Moonchild, how much of her trust, her self assurance, her comfort in her own autonomy. She’s reminded again how much Five has done, and how much she didn’t deserve.

“Five,” she finally says quietly, putting her own hands down on the table to lean in closer to her, “If anything happens, I promise I will be there to stop you.”

Five’s frozen in place, her pleading eyes the only thing betraying her firm expression, “At any cost?”

Janine pauses before answering. “At any cost.”

Of course it all goes wrong.

She’s got her gun locked on Five’s position. She could shoot to wound, it would slow her down. But she’s too far away, one inch too far off target and she could kill Five.

She doesn’t take the shot.

Five falls to her knees, the papers slipping through her fingers. Janine doesn’t think she’s ever seen the runner look at her with such wild hurt and betrayal in her eyes.

But she’s alive.

*

Keeping the mission a secret from Mr. Yao hadn’t panned out as she had planned. Keeping the mission a secret from Runner Five was not a precaution she thought she would have to take.

Of course Sam let it slip over breakfast.

Five’s eyes widen, “Baby shower run?”

She turns toward Janine who, already anticipating the question starts shaking her head, “No, absolutely _not_ Runner Five you are still on mandatory rest.”

“But Janine, I’m fine!”

“You were in an explosion!” Janine is almost tempted to roll her eyes as Five not so subtly slips her bandaged hand under the table.

“But_ Janine_, I’ve been exploded so many times! I can’t rest every single time it happens!”

“She’s got a point,” Sam interjects and then cows under the look Janine gives him.

“Runner Five,” Janine says, trying very hard not to raise her voice in frustration, “I am obligated for your own safety and the safety of others not to send you on any missions that would slow your recovery, which I might add, was already impeded by your little trip across the township from the hospital to the comms shack for the weekly Demons and Darkness game when you were supposed to be on round the clock bed rest!”

“Yes, I heard about that,” she says, in response to Five’s very guilty expression.

Five shoots Sam an accusatory look, and he hastily lowers his face into his cereal bowl.

“Okay, so see it just proves I’m fine!”

“That is completely besides the point, and I think Dr. Lobatse would agree with me,” she nods to the doctor as she reaches her arm past Janine to grab the salt.

“Oh, let her go Janine what harm can it do? You’re not even going far from the township and it’s a special occasion,” Lobatse says, giving Five a wink.

“Yes, thank you for your support doctor,” Janine replies dryly.

Runner Five is practically vibrating with excitement and she’s briefly reminded of a look on her brothers face when they were young and their parents took them on trips to the candy shop as a special treat on the weekends.

It’s a far cry from how wrecked Five looked just a few days ago after Mister Yao’s...incident and Janine can’t help but feel a bit assuaged.

“Well I suppose we’ll need someone on the mission whom I can trust to pick out _sensible_ toys.”

*

Janine planned many tactics to appear unhinged to the Ministry. Admittedly, crying about baby names was not one of them.

Five had found her way to the comms shack shortly after the mission, muttering some excuse about needing to charge her headset (“Oh, I forgot I already charged it yesterday,” she shrugs, when Sam points out the battery is full.)

Sam, for his part, had awkwardly patted Janine on the back and mumbled some good hearted assurances as she attempted to pull herself together. It was oddly comforting, and Janine is reminded that he’s often more than she deserves. He gives her an apologetic look when Maxine opens the door asking him to help put the baby-Sara-down to sleep, before he leaves.

Janine stands in front of the monitors with her arms crossed, waiting until she can look more pulled together before following Sam out of the comms shack. There’s a noise behind her then, and she turns to see Five carefully setting the headset down on the table. She still hasn’t left.

Five straightens up and looks at Janine, her expression indiscernible. She seems to be struggling with herself for a moment. Then-

“Janine...I’m just-gonna-,” seeming to make a decision she steps forward and puts her arms around Janine in a fierce hug.

Startled, Janine just stands there for a few seconds. Five’s never been a physical person (and even less so since Moonchild). But she’s here and she’s..._hugging_ her and it doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, but something in Janine’s chest still lifts. After a few moments she reaches up and awkwardly puts her arms around Five as well, confused and grateful.

*

When Janine is putting on the show that she’s cracked (when Janine is trying not to crack up while putting on a show that she’s cracked up) she receives a lot of different looks.

Sam looks at her with a mixture of worry and compassion, maybe even a little guilt, like it was his fault that Janine lost it after his baby was stolen.

Dr. Myers looks at her the same but perhaps a touch more clinically, like if she just figures her out she might be able to prescribe the best mix of medicine that can cure her.

Some Abel residents who’ve overheard the rumors of her insanity look at her with worry and alarm, like the township might fall apart if Janine breaks.

Well, they’re not wrong about that.

Five doesn’t look at her with anything like that. There’s not pity or worry, there’s not even sympathy. Just a quiet understanding, perhaps a little too much understanding for Janine’s liking.

Despite all that, Janine expects some sort of reaction when she reveals the extent of her plan to Five on the way back from the Netrophil base.

But Five just laughs and says, “Well I’m not going to lie I am relieved to hear that, but it was a bit nice not to feel like the only one for a while.”

Five doesn’t elaborate past that and Janine doesn’t ask.

*

“Do you trust me Five?”

Janine’s not sure what she’s more touched by. Five’s answer or the fact that she didn’t hesitate for a second before answering-

“With my life.”

*

Sam watches Five. He watches all the runners, sure, but then there’s Five and maybe he watches her a little more than the rest of them.

So maybe he sees a little more than he should.

He sees the way Runner Five has absolute trust in Janine. She follows orders to a T but he’s never seen her do it with absolute faith like she does with Janine, not for anyone. Maybe not even for Sara.

It worries him sometimes. He knows that Janine would never intentionally lead Five into danger. It’s just that Five would probably jump off a building if the order came from Janine de Luca.

He sees other things, too. How Five physically revolves around Janine. How she’ll immediately move to put herself in between Janine and danger. How she instinctively, unconsciously gravitates toward Janine when she’s scared. It’s a type of trust he didn’t know Five could have, when he first met her. A type of trust she rarely shows to anyone.

He sees the way she looks at Janine. And it doesn’t worry him so much anymore.

*

Of course it has to be a covert mission at dusk when everything goes to hell.

Janine and Five are miles from Abel, without comms to prevent anyone from tracking them, and nightfall is quickly approaching. It was supposed to be a cut and dried mission to retrieve some of Sigrid’s old files from an abandoned government base. She and Five got separated when the ministry soldiers appeared and started shooting, and on top of that they’re surrounded by zombies.

Janine has been weaving through the forest for a good half hour, trying to locate Five while avoiding the Minister’s men when she stumbles on a figure under the trees, barely concealed by dead leaves and grass.

She bends down and swiftly puts two fingers against Five’s neck. Alive.

She moves her hands down to the dark red stain on Five’s thigh. Dead leaves stick to the dried blood that’s run down her leg. It’s not a bite mark, a graze from a gunshot perhaps, but she’s passed out from blood loss. She pulls her jacket off and knots it tightly around Five’s leg. Five’s in no condition to be moved but they can’t stay here.

Making a split second decision, she grabs one of Five’s arms and pulls her up into a sitting position before reaching her other arm under Five’s legs and hoisting her up against her chest. She starts running, trying not to jostle Five too much, she can’t discern exactly how badly Five’s been hurt at this point, but the blood soaking through the sleeves of the jacket tied around her thigh doesn’t look promising.

As she runs, Five stirs against her chest but doesn’t open her eyes.

She’s admittedly, a bit nervous now. The sun is lowering over the horizon and there’s still miles to go before they reach Noah Base. Focusing on the dimly lit road ahead, she barely hears when Five starts murmuring something.

“What was that, Runner Five?”

Five’s voice is barely audible but Janine knows the name she’s calling for well enough to make it out and her throat tightens.

“I’m...not Sara, Five.” and without knowing why she almost feels like she should apologize for it.

She resolutely ignores the painful feeling in her chest for the next few hours as she runs home with Five in her arms.

But a couple of miles before they reach Noah, Five opens her eyes, clearly more awake and less disoriented than before. She looks up.

“Janine,” she breathes. “Thank God.”

*

Steve gives Five an imperceptible shake of the head, eyes moving down toward where Five is clutching Janine’s jacket too tightly between her fingers. She quickly loosens her grip and looks up at Sigrid, heart pounding, but she’s not looking at Five, all of her attention focused on the key card in her hand.

“Excellent work, Runner Five,” Sigrid turns over the key card between her fingers, her cool exterior only just concealing the hungry gleam in her eyes, “We’ll be down in those labs in no time.”

Steve nudges Five’s shoulder, just barely, and obediently Five holds the jacket out to Sigrid. Not that she needed Steve’s reminder. Five’s not stupid enough to ask Sigrid if she can keep it.

Sigrid barely looks at her, “Keep it Five. I did say it was a nice jacket, and we like to reward our runners for good work here.” She smiles placidly at Five, patting her shoulder in a way that’s more controlling that reassuring.

She suspects Sigrid’s intention is for it to be a reminder of Janine’s betrayal, rather than a memento of a dead friend. She doesn’t care. It took every ounce of her willpower not to listen to Tom’s pretend pleas for her to come home, and jump on the boat with him.

A week later she wakes up with her heart pounding, Ian’s laughter and Moonchild’s voice faintly echoing in her ears. She blinks a few times, adjusting her eyes to the darkness of the room.

The suffocating, empty darkness.

Suddenly the room feels too small, and Five feels too trapped, and she rubs her wrists where they burn with the ghosts of shackles. She groans and rolls over, pressing her face into the pillow. She’s going to kill Ian once she gets out of this.

She’d normally get up and run a few laps on the track but she can’t. Not when Sigrid is still suspicious of her, and guards are patrolling the township. It’s strange being back. It’s home but it’s not. Sigrid has tainted any sense of home that Five had once had at Abel.

Her home is back at Noah Base.

Suddenly, Five rolls out of bed and reaches for the box that contains her clothing allocation. It’s pretty empty, Sigrid makes her higher ups wear uniforms and the clothes she came in were thrown away after five days in Ian’s box ruined them, but it’s the jacket at the bottom she’s reaching for.

She wraps it around herself, and buries her face in her arms, breathing in the worn material. Immediately her heart rate slows, and her breathing calms. She curls back up in bed, the jacket encompassing her with Janine De Luca’s reassuring presence, and it chases away the touch anyone else ever had on her.

Steve looks at her, but doesn’t say anything when she wears it to breakfast the next day.

*

Sigrid is perusing Runner Five’s file, looking for any cracks in that quiet but lethal runner’s past that may prove useful to her.

She’d really rather not kill Runner Five, she could stand to benefit from having a soldier like Five on her side. She could be a valuable weapon. And then there’s the pesky little problem of Five’s hero status at Abel. Turning her into a martyr would do little to stem the stirrings of rebellion in the annoyingly stubborn township.

Sigrid flips through the pages of the file and decides the answer is fairly obvious. Five seems to latch onto powerful women. Abel Township Runner Eight. Moonchild in a sense. Janine De Luca.

And Sigrid is confident in the fact that she’s more powerful than the three of them. She can offer more to Five than Janine De Luca ever could. And Five has just suffered quite a loss. It’s so simple really, that Sigrid wonders why she didn’t think if it right away. All she has to do is convince Five that De Luca was not all that Five believed her to be and her loyalty should be easily swayed. A few days of solitary ought to soften Five up enough. All she has to do is let Golightly play the villain and appear as the hero who rescues Five.

Simple enough. It’s a role Sigrid knows well.

Still, she can’t help but feel a little pleased with herself when Steve reports to her that Five has agreed to join the cause. It’s easy. Too easy. Of course she didn’t doubt her ability to get Five on her side but it’s so easy in fact, that Sigrid wonders how much of a threat De Luca actually was.

It’s only months later when she’s looking into Five’s determined, slightly smug eyes as they stand before the training grounds that she realizes how completely she miscalculated

It’s a blow that, to be quite honest, she’s not sure she’s going to be able to recover from. The underground labs are locked, her best weapon is a traitor, and her plans are months behind.

Sigrid knows she lost the moment she underestimated Five’s loyalty to Janine De Luca.

*

The door to his panic room opens slowly and he hopes to God it’s not Jody, a comfort that she is, he can’t stand for her to see him like this.

But the figure that crouches down in front of him isn’t Jody, but Five. He can tell even with his hands over his face, even with his eyes closed and the noise in his head drowning out her voice.  
He wants to say that his ability to identify people based on their footsteps is the MI6 training that never really left him. It’s easier to think of it like that than remember the way each of his captors walked, the sound that each of their feet made as they hit the floor, coming closer to his cell-coming closer-

“Tom?” Five’s quiet voice breaks through the painful drumming in his head, “Tom, are you alright?”

“Yes, yes quite all right,” he pushes himself out from under the bed and dusts off his coat, “Quite all right.”

He thinks she’s going to leave then, maybe to give him space-Runner Five is like that, always values giving people space, or perhaps to get Janine, but she just tentatively crouches down beside him into a sitting position.

He can’t help but feel a little warmed as she gives him a gentle but piercing up and down look that he knows she must have picked up from Janine. “What brought it on, Tom?”

“Oh. Well.” He fidgets with his sleeve. The button’s coming loose again, he’ll have to fix that. “I was just thinking about some of the things I did a couple years ago. You know, when I was insane. Not that I’m not now but, perhaps less so now.” He’s rambling again, he’ll have to try and remember not to do that, but Runner Five just looks at him patiently. What was his point? What brought the panic on? Ah. yes. “I hurt people.”

Runner Five sits quietly for a few minutes, her brow furrowed. She doesn’t look at him when she finally talks.“I killed hundreds of people. Could be thousands, I still don’t know.”

“From what I hear, that wasn’t your fault. You weren’t in control.”

“Neither were you,” she says simply.

Her words are drowning away the static in his head. It drives him on. “I sometimes...wish I could be stronger. Have more mental fortitude, if you know what I mean. Well I don’t see any one else on the team cracking up, seeing things.” It hurt Tom to say it aloud more than he would have admitted to anyone, to Jody, to Jane. Sometimes he thinks he’s more trouble than he’s worth. Being so unpredictable, so uncontrolled. Well, others must have been thinking it too.

He’s unable to make eye contact with Five for several moments but when he finally looks up she’s just smiling gently at him. “You know...sometimes I hear voices in my head,” she laughs quietly then, “Actually mostly just one voice. Mostly Moonchild.”

It’s been almost two years since Moonchild took over Runner Five’s brain Tom estimates, but he can still hear the trepidation in her voice when she says the name, and he thinks how terrible it must be to hear one’s captor in one’s head, even after they’ve died.

Then of course, Tom knows exactly what that’s like.

Still he’s glad she’s confided in him. It makes him feel less alone in a sense. He supposes that was her point. The quiet runner has never spoken much, at least since he’s met her, but she seems to make the few words she does say count.

She’s twisting her hands together now, looking suddenly unsure, “Don’t tell Janine, okay?”

He raises his eyebrows at her. Don’t tell Janine, as if Jane would ever judge the runner for that. Then again he supposes all Runner Five has to go on when it comes to Janine and insane people is her initial hostility towards him. Of course he was killing people at the time.

Tom suppresses a shudder. Still he thought that they had...a closer relationship than that. At least from the way his sister talks about Five. Then again, Jane was never one to be open with her feelings, and he wonders if she’s ever shared any of her confidences with Five.

“Jane, she trusts you, you know?” Five just nods and Tom knows it’s not the right words, not the words he was looking for. Five knows his sister trusts her, of course she does.

‘I should be lucky to have half the courage that Five does’ is what Janine had actually said. ‘I don’t know what would have happened if Runner Five had not been here’ is what she quietly admitted to him one morning over breakfast. ‘I will not just leave her there!’ is what she had yelled at Tom, as he tried to convince her that charging into Abel to rescue a captured Five was a plan surely to end in disaster for them both.

But Tom knows her sister well enough to know that some confidences, even the kinder ones, she’d rather keep to herself. So he simply says, “Jane, she likes you.”

That gets a reaction from Five. Tom chuckles, “My sister...she didn’t have many friends growing up. Moved around a lot we did, and Jane was well...she can be a bit heavy handed. She’s not quite a people person, well you know.”

The draws a smile out of Five, though it’s a touch sad.

“I am...glad that she has you.”

*

The fifth time she hears the quiet tapping of Five’s feet running a lap past her door, Janine decides it’s time to intervene.

As she hears her footsteps approaching, she pushes open the door. “Five?” Janine says. “Why don’t you come in?”

Five doesn’t move for a minute, looking longingly down the stretch of hallway in front of her.

“Come on.” Janine says, a little more firmly.

She hesitates a second longer then half-heartedly turns on her heel and steps into Janine’s room. Janine watches as Five stops a foot past the threshold and looks around the room with a curious expression on her face. It’s bare and military like, part from its original layout and part Janine’s design. But there are some pieces in there that (though Janine would never admit) makes her feel like home. The wooden cupboard has a crayon scribbled drawing that baby Sara had gleefully thrown in her direction the other day. Draped over the bed is one of the scarves Jody had knitted for each of them for when the base got cold at night. It’s funny, Janine had never thought that anywhere but the farmhouse could feel like home for the longest time, but rebuilding home up from the ashes seems to be what their little Abel family is best at. Though Janine hadn’t realized how much Runner Five’s absence had affected this feeling until she got back. How much of home she’d built in the runner over the past five years.

“I didn’t wake you did I?” Five asks hesitantly, moving into the center of the room, her posture still unsure.

Janine sits back down at her desk and motions for Five to take a seat on the bed. Five does, awkwardly. “No, no I was just going over this again.” She gestures to the stack of papers mapping out Abel’s underground labs. It’s been a difficult process, putting the plans together, but she’s growing more confident by the day that they will soon be able to take the township back. More difficult perhaps, is how to get Runner Five to talk to her.

Five sits quietly for a few minutes and Janine taps her pencil to her lips, studying the runner, trying to figure out how to broach the subject. They’re both like that in a way, too closed, too cold.

“This isn’t the first night I’ve heard you running, Five.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Five gives her a sheepish look. “Don’t tell Maxine”

“No I don’t think it would be wise to give her another thing to worry about in your recovery.” Janine gives Five a careful look. She had already lost weight from her time at Abel and now it seems even more despite returning home. The bite wound on her left forearm hadn’t quite healed and Dr. Myers was still concerned about long term internal injury from the electrical shock of the fence.

Janine eyes the bags under Five’s eyes, the set of the runner’s shoulders. A nagging, guilty feeling creeps up the back of her throat. There’s so much Runner Five never asked for, so much thrust upon her simply because no one else would or could. She could have warned Five, all those years ago when she showed up on her doorstep a week after Sara died. She could have but didn’t, because she didn’t want to be alone. And Five paid the price for it.

“Five, I’m sorry.”

Five blinks, gazing at Janine through tired eyes. “You’re...sorry?”

“I ask you these things because I know you are capable of a great deal. But sometimes I wonder whether I ask too much of you,” she pauses, weighing her next words, “Whether you’re hurting because of me.”

“Janine I’ve never done anything that I didn’t want to do,” her face darkens for half a second, “Well, mostly,” she gives a hollow chuckle, and Janine supposes she should be grateful at least Five is in a place where she can use dark humor about it.

The guilty feeling still pulls at her chest, “I sent you into Abel. I should have gotten you out quicker. I-I failed you.”

Five cuts her off, “Janine stop, I’m not your...responsibility.” The word hangs in the air between them and they both know it’s not the one Five was looking for.

Janine stands up suddenly and moves toward Five, stopping a few steps in front of her.“You are my friend. I care about you. That makes you my...responsibility.”

They both pause then, just looking at each other, and Janine considers how far they have come, how they are both still here and alive despite all the odds. Five seems to be thinking similarly because her next words are, “You saved me Janine. You’ve saved me more times than I can count.” She swallows, “In more ways than one.”

Those horrible few moments when she thought Five had been dead. She’d written the pain she’d felt off as guilt but it hadn’t just been that had it?

Janine is suddenly aware of the lack of space between them and pulls away, reaching back over to her desk. “Well, since you’re here I can go over this with you.” She shoves her plans for retaking Abel aside and pulls a book out, pressing it into Five’s hands. “It’s an old user manual I found for the wiring on the base, we were having problems with the light switches in the east wing and I thought perhaps this could enlighten us.”

Five stares down at the book in her hands with a pained look and Janine just barely conceals her smile as she sits back down at her desk.

Fifteen minutes into it, Five’s eyes start to close and she starts to slump sideways. Janine walks over to gently push her down so her head rests on the pillow. She suspects five is too exhausted to notice or argue. She pulls the blanket over Five and turns to leave.

But Five reaches out and softly takes her hand.

“Stay?”

“Of course, Five.”


End file.
